


you will reap the hate you’ve sown on my judgement day

by always_an_anxious_mess



Category: Minecraft - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Body Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Magic, Rituals, Spoilers for November 29th Streams, Tommy’s MAD, Tommy’s going nuts, Took some liberties with Minecraft’s dynamics but ehhh, Tubbo exiles Tommy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27791194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_an_anxious_mess/pseuds/always_an_anxious_mess
Summary: Tubbo exiled him. HE EXILED HIM. AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE FOR THIS COUNTRY. AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE FOR TUBBO. FOR PHIL. FOR NIKI. FOR FUNDY. THEY TOSSED HIM OUT LIKE HE WAS NOTHING.They will pay. Tommy WILL make sure they get what they deserve. No matter what it might do to him.After all, Wilbur failed in destroying L’manburg. It’s only fitting that Tommy does it better than his older brother ever could.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), shipper dni
Comments: 366
Kudos: 755





	1. Chapter 1

“I heard there was a special place...” Tommy sung underneath his breath, fingers trailing over the smooth obsidian walls that surrounded L’manburg. His L’manburg. His L’manburg, that he was no longer allowed inside. “Where men could go and emancipate... from the brutality, and the tyranny of their rulers...”

The sun was setting, clouds covering the sky and making it much darker than it should be. The only light came from torches and lanterns scattered about and the dying rays of the sun.

It was a perfect night for what he needed to do.

“Hello?” A voice called from the other side of the wall. In his unstable state, Tommy couldn’t place who the voice belonged to. That was okay. Everything would be okay. After tonight, everything would be changing.

Tommy’s hand jerked away from the obsidian wall quickly, as if it had burned him. Laughter bubbled in his chest, but it didn’t pass his lips. He fell deathly silent. He could practically hear Wilbur’s jabs about he was never silent, how strange it must be for him to close his mouth.

He left quickly, careful to not make a sound as he waded through the grass. Best not be late to his own party, after all. He may not get another chance.

Tommy traveled far, putting a good distance between himself and the other inhabited areas of the server.

His makeshift base was located here. A small cave that had already been mined dry of resources when he’d discovered it. It reminded him of Pogtopia, sometimes, but he didn’t focus on those memories.

Tommy slid down into the cave, following it down in its twists and turns until he was far beneath the surface. His little shelter, with nothing but a bed, torches, an ender chest, and the countless runes he’d scrawled on the floor and the walls just for this moment.

Tommy knelt down and brushed one of the runes, remembering the painstaking time and detail he’d placed into each one. A mistake on these would result in death. His last death. Then he’d be like Ghostbur, a shell of his former self slowly being eaten by the void.

Did he really want to do this? Solitude wasn’t all that bad. Phil messaged him sometimes, to check up on him. Tubbo... Tubbo didn’t. That bastard. After EVERYTHING TOMMY HAD SACRIFICED?! AFTER EVERYTHING HE’D DONE FOR TUBBO?! FOR L’MANBURG?! HE THREW HIM AWAY! LIKE HE WAS NOTHING!

Tommy trembled, rage filling him from head to toe. No regrets. No hesitation. They were a weakness he could not afford.

Techno had been right. That bastard had been right.

Tommy started cackling. He was broken. His mind had fractured, he knew. The solitude and the betrayal had finally snapped his fragile sanity.

TECHNO HAD BEEN RIGHT! NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS TO HEROES!

Tommy’s laughter filled the cave, echoing on the walls and ringing in his ears. Even he, in his fractured state, could recognize the madness and helplessness in his own laugh. He truly was alone. All alone.

Man, if Techno had been with him, he’d hug him and laugh. Laugh this same broken laugh. Tell him how right he had been.

But Techno wasn’t there. No one was with him.

That’s the whole reason he was doing this, after all.

They LEFT him.

EVERYONE left him.

Time to make them pay.

Tommy’s laughter ceased all at once, stopping as abruptly as it had started. In two quick strides, he was at his ender chest, opening it and withdrawing a single item. The book.

The book that would change everything.

The book that would make them all PAY.

Tommy lifted the book to his nose and inhaled, relishing in the smell of leather and old paper and MAGIC.

He opened the book, flipping to the correct page. It had taken him days, or was it weeks? of sleepless nights for him to be able to translate the old language and teach himself to speak it. All for this. This moment.

_**“╎ᓭ⚍ᒲᒲ𝙹リ ||𝙹⚍, ↸ᒷᓭℸ ̣ ∷𝙹||ᒷ∷,”**_ Tommy swallowed as he read from the book, watching the runes along the walls and the floor glow with white light. He pushed away his nervousness. This was necessary. This is what he had to do. _**“ᔑᓵ⚍∷ᓭᒷ⚍!¡𝙹リℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷꖎᔑリ↸. ⊣╎⍊ᒷᒲᒷ ||𝙹⚍∷ !¡𝙹∴ᒷ∷╎リᒷ ̇/ᓵ⍑ᔑリ⊣ᒷ⎓𝙹∷ᒲ|| ʖ𝙹↸||, ⎓𝙹∷ ||𝙹⚍ℸ ̣ 𝙹⚍ᓭᒷᔑᓭ ||𝙹⚍ !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ.”**_

With that, Tommy slammed a hand on the ground, directly over one of the runes, snapping the book shut with his other hand.

Wind blew through the cave, buffeting his hair and pulling at his clothes. The rune beneath his hand BURNED, but he couldn’t move to pull it away. Tears sprung into his eyes.

Stop. Please. No. I’ve changed my mind. Please. NO.

Spikes of pain thrust into his hand, then traveled up his arm, spreading throughout his whole body. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out of his mouth.

Inky blackness crawled up from his fingers, shooting up his arm and disappearing underneath his shirt, where it surely kept going.

His whole body was in agony, but he couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move.

NO. STOP. I DON’T WANT THIS ANYMORE. PLEASE.

It didn’t stop.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, as a scream FINALLY tore its way out of his throat. But it was distorted, inhuman.

His mind disconnected from his body, and suddenly Tommy was staring down at himself as his body collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Was he dead?

No, he wasn’t. His chest still rose and fell, and there was definitely a heart beating there. But he just wasn’t in his body.

Tommy stared down at himself. His skin had turned pitch black. His hair was no longer golden, but a pure, blinding white. Hard plating covered the back of his hands, and his fingernails were the same brilliant white color has his hair.

Tommy watched, unable to move, as his skin slowly paled back to its original color. As his hair once again became blonde, a shade lighter than before, but not too noticeable. His fingertips were still black, his fingernails still white, and the hard plating on the backs of his hands also remained, also black against the paleness of his skin.

Tommy was suddenly back in his own body, blinking open his eyes. A distinct wrongness was evident, but it could be easily ignored.

Power flooded through him, he could feel it. He instinctively knew what powers he now possessed and every single way he could use them.

Tommy could hear laughter, maniacal laughter. It took him a minute to realize that it was HIS. But that fact didn’t faze him.

Tommy stood up, opening and closing his hands as he stared down at them in wonder.

He looked up, a grin on his face. That grin was not childlike and innocent, as it had used to be, but full of malice and promising danger.

They were going to PAY.

EVERYONE was going to PAY

No one could stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy had always been loyal. That’s who everyone saw him as, fiercely loyal to whatever or whoever he deemed deserved his loyalty.

He had been loyal to several things.

Phil, Techno, Wilbur, Tubbo, L’manburg, and his disks.

L’manburg lost his loyalty when he was exiled from it, TWICE. Wilbur lost his loyalty when he went crazy, when he blew up L’manburg. Techno lost his loyalty by betraying them. Phil lost his loyalty when he decided Techno was more important to him than his traumatized teenage sons. Tubbo lost his loyalty when he chose Dream over him, and exiled him.

His disks were his only loyalty now.

And they were a weakness.

Well, the disks weren’t Tommy’s only loyalty. He had a loyalty to the voice in his mind that had shown up since he performed the ritual.

_**FEED.** _

The voice would demand that every eight hours, and would repeat the word until he’d use his new powers to rot away something living. It didn’t matter if it was grass, a tree, even a live chicken in one gruesome instance. Once he did that, the voice would fall silent.

Tommy was happy to do it. If a little withering was all it took in order to essentially become unstoppable, he would gladly accept it.

One problem he noticed, though, was that it extended to wood as well. This meant he couldn’t hold an axe or sword without the handles rotting away. So Tommy stole a pair of gloves that blocked the wither affect from eating his weapons.

Three days after the ritual was completed, a message popped up on his communicator.

**Dream: @TommyInnit meet at the community house in ten minutes**

**Dream: weapons allowed**

Tommy stared at the message, a violent giggle trying to escape him. He swallowed it down and grabbed his green bandana, tying it over his mouth and nose. He grabbed his axe, pulled on his netherite chest plate, and made sure THE book was in his ender chest before leaving.

_I’m going to die,_ Tommy thought hysterically, a grin on his face and laughter bubbling in his chest. _They’re going to kill me._

_**YOU WILL NOT.** _

Tommy paused, his head swiveling around, searching for the source of the voice. Had that been... THE voice? Was it finally saying something other than “feed”? But why?

He shook off the thought, humming “my L’manburg” under his breath with some sort of crazed glee as he made his way down to the community house. As he approached, he counted the people there.

Tubbo, Dream, George, Niki, Bad, Skeppy.

And they weren’t killing each other, that was... Tommy wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

No one else wore armor, but Bad, Skeppy and Dream were all armed. Tubbo and Niki surely were too. Tommy knew that they both always had a knife on them.

Tommy’s humming ceased as he slammed open the door to the community house, catching everyone’s attention.

“I’d say it’s nice to see you all, but that’d make me a liar,” Tommy said cheerfully, only now noticing how scratchy his voice was from underuse. “What do you want?”

“You sound like shit,” Skeppy commented, looking at him with a grin that made Tommy immediately know something was up. “You look like shit too.”

“Thanks,” Tommy replied, unconcerned about his comment. “Now, again, what do you want?”

Everyone was staring at him now, and Tommy casually wondered if he was about to die. That’d be funny.

His eyes flicked between each person’s face. Niki and Tubbo both seemed concerned. George looked bored. Bad was staring at him as if they’d never seen him before. Dream was Dream.

“What?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re... different,” Niki replied softly.

“Being exiled tends to do that to you,” Tommy laughed bitterly. “Now, tell me what you want. I do have things to do, you know.”

“Simple,” Dream spoke up, turning towards Tubbo, who looked away. “The charges against you will be revoked, as long as you allow Tubbo to surrender your disks to me.”

Tommy stared at him, unimpressed. “The catch?”

“No catch,” Dream said, in a false-assuring tone. Tommy could practically hear the grin on Dream’s face as he spoke. “You’ll be allowed back in L’manburg, without your vice-presidency, as long as you go on record to allow Tubbo to give me your disks.”

“He’s already got one,” Skeppy grinned. “I gave Dream that disk of yours.”

“And what’re you going to do with them, huh?” Tommy asked Dream, tilting his head slightly and smiling underneath his bandana. “You gonna smash them?”

“What I do to them isn’t part of this,” Dream said smoothly.

Tommy stared at him for a few moments, absentmindedly reaching up and fiddling with the bandanna around his face.

“Well then,” he shrugged. “Give him the disks, Tubbo.”

“What?” Tubbo blanched, eyes wide.

“Give him the disks,” Tommy gestured forward. “That’s what we’re all here for, right? Give them to him already.”

Dream started laugh-wheezing as both Tubbo and Niki stared at Tommy with startled looks.

Tubbo hesitantly pulled out the disks, and with shaking hands, passed them to Dream.

Who immediately snapped one in half over his knee, quickly followed by the other one.

Tubbo and Niki gasped, George started snickering, Dream kept wheezing, Skeppy also started laughing.

Bad was the only one who was looking at Tommy.

Tommy stared at the broken pieces of his disks and felt violent laughter start to bubble in his chest. A snort escaped him as he tried to swallow it down, and he was pretty sure his shoulders were shaking from his efforts. He bit his lip, glad that his bandana hid his grin.

And then he started cackling.

The rest of the room fell silent as Tommy’s laugh echoed across the walls. It was the same deranged laugh that seemed to follow him everywhere. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as his own cackling rang in his ears.

“Well,” Tommy said a few moments later, straightening up as he tried to stifle his remaining giggles. “You’ve done it. I imagine that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. In all honesty, THANK YOU. Those stupid shits were a weakness you can’t afford these days, am I right?”

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked, sounding horrified.

“I’ve been thinking lately,” Tommy continued as if he hadn’t heard him, unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “Techno predicted this with his whole Theseus speech. I have become Theseus, supposed to be a hero and then exiled from the country I fought for. The country I’ve died for. It’s funny, yeah? Techno’s the pariah here. Maybe I am too.”

Everyone had fallen silent, both Niki and Tubbo staring at him in horror. George just looked confused. Skeppy and Bad both seemed nervous. Dream was Dream.

“But there is one thing different between me and Theseus,” Tommy hummed, his grip tightening on his axe as his eyes locked onto Dream’s mask. His voice dropped, losing it’s lighthearted, rambly tone in favor for a more venomous one. “I refuse to die like he did.”

Dream also tightened his grip on his axe, his body language shifting to the defensive. They maintained eye contact for a few tense moments, each one daring the other to strike first.

“Tommy,” hands latched onto his arm, the one not holding his axe. “Tommy let’s go to L’manburg. Please. We’ll- we’ll- we’ll get Phil, okay? He can help you,” Tubbo was pleading with him. He was BEGGING. Begging, really? Pathetic.

YOU BETRAY ME AND EXPECT ME TO DO AS YOU SAY JUST BECAUSE YOU BEG?

WHAT AM I? YOUR DOG?

Bitterness washed through Tommy, and his eyes narrowed.

“I don’t need help,” he said, venom dripping from his words as he turned and glared at Tubbo.

Tubbo’s eyes widened. He looked AFRAID. Of him.

Good.

Sick satisfaction twisted through Tommy’s chest, and he almost grinned.

He yanked his arm out of Tubbo’s grip and turned, practically bolting out of the community house.

He could hear Niki and Tubbo calling after him, could feel their footsteps shake the path as the ran out after him, but he swiftly lost them in the woods.

Tommy could hear them call out for him, could see the messages they sent to ask him to come back.

Just desperate pleas for him to come back, that they could help, that everything would be okay now.

Liars.

The lot of them.

_**FEED,**_ the voice demanded as Tommy made it to his base once more.

He smiled.

“Of course,” he responded affectionately.

After all, his loyalty lied only with the voice now, without those stupid disks holding him back. The voice was the only thing that hadn’t lied to him, hadn’t abandoned him. It never would.

They will all pay, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ll be getting into the good stuff soon, I promise. No more Enchantment Language for now because that is a BITCH to write.


	3. Chapter 3

Tommy’s communicator had been pinging nonstop since the meeting ended, and he was seriously considering smashing the damn thing at this point. Whether it was someone calling him or just messaging him, it just wouldn’t. Shut. Up.

“FUCK!” He screamed in frustration, listening to echo around the walls of his small cave. “SHUT UP!”

Tommy pulled his communicator out, shaking with irritation and anger as he checked his recents.

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Niki missed call.**

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Phil missed call.**

**Phil missed call.**

**Tubbo missed call.**

**Phil missed call.**

**Tubbo (dm): Tommy please come back**

**Tubbo (dm): you need help**

**Tubbo (dm): we’re all worried**

**Phil (dm): Are you alright?**

**Phil (dm): Tubbo and Niki won’t tell me what happened**

**Phil (dm): Can we please meet somewhere? Anywhere**

Tommy sneered at the messages and the records of missed calls, finding more and more of them the further up he scrolled. They were all pleading, begging for him to come to L’manburg so they could help him.

He didn’t need help. He didn’t need THEM.

Another call came through his communicator, from Phil. Tommy shrieked in anger and through his communicator across the room.

The device hit the wall and thumped to the ground. That didn’t really surprise him, they were designed to be nigh-unbreakable. It didn’t help him at all with his anger though.

If he didn’t calm down soon, he was going to accidentally blow up his base. That would not be ideal.

But, he could blow up something else.

A grin stretched across his face, and he pulled his bandana back over his face. He grabbed a cloak, one he’d stitched himself, and threw it on, drawing the hood up.

The sun had set by now, plunging the SMP into darkness barely lit by the partially-covered moon.

Tommy abandoned his communicator where it was as he left his cave. L’manburg was on his menu to be destroyed, yes, but he was aiming a bit bigger for tonight.

He kept to the edge of the woods as he approached what used to be Eret’s castle. It was George’s now, he knew, though he was fairly sure he’d never seen the man inside it once.

It was beautiful, from an architectural standpoint. But it writhed with darkness and it had only ever held traitors.

Most beautiful things don’t last long in this world anyways. Just look at how L’manburg had turned out. Just look at how his family had turned out. Just look at how him and Tubbo’s friendship had turned out.

He paused, staring at the stone walls of this beautiful castle.

He didn’t panic as his feet left the ground, as the grass grew further and further away from him.

Tommy stopped ascending and hovered, feeling inky blackness pour over his skin. He felt his hair turn white.

He pulled off his gloves as his vision edged itself with a white glow, and he stared down at the castle, now far beneath him.

“But tables can turn,” Tommy sang softly glancing at his hands where white fire was glowing against his black palms. They didn’t burn him. “As my enemies will soon enough learn. I will strike a match and then watch them burn, on the pyre of obsession.”

He turned his hands over, so his palms faced the ground. White fireballs shot from his hands and crashed into the castle, exploding once it landed. It reminded him of wither skulls being launched, which, considering the ritual he’d put himself through, was probably an accurate comparison.

The stained glass and stone showered around as the rumbling from the explosions tore through the air.

Tommy started cackling as he sent fireball after fireball into the castle, watching it be blown to smithereens.

He could hear yelling from the ground as people started to show up. He was thankful that it was night, as he was virtually invisible now.

He ceased his fireballs, clenching his hands into fists as the castle crumbled, grinning at the destruction he had caused. His laughter continued to ring in the air, and he saw the people below him searching frantically for the source of it.

No one thought to look UP.

Tommy turned and fled from the castle, laughter ceasing as he flew through the air. Once he was far enough into the woods, he let himself land, little giggles bubbling in his chest.

He truly had snapped, he knew. His sanity had been slowly weakening ever since that fucking duel with Dream. If sanity was a pane of glass, that damn arrow sinking between his ribs was the first crack. All the events that followed, giving up his disks, the election, Wilbur going mental, the festival, the pit, Techno’s betrayal, L’manburg blowing up, Phil killing Wilbur, Techno releasing the withers, Tubbo EXILING HIM, they certainly hadn’t helped. They’d destroyed what had been left.

In the end, Tommy should’ve known.

His base had been destroyed, OBLITERATED, DOZENS of times. But god forbid he commit a little arson. GEORGE COULD HAVE FIXED THAT DAMN HOUSE EASILY, BUT NO.

HE LET THEM WALK ALL OVER HIM. HE OFFERED HIS LOYALTY, HIS PROTECTION, HIS LOVE, AND ALL HE GOT IN RETURN WAS A STAB TO THE BACK.

“FUCK!” Tommy screamed, punching a nearby tree so hard he was pretty sure he broke his hand. He reeled back for a moment, tears welling in his eyes as the darkness faded from his skin. 

But then he punched the tree again. And again. And again. Ignoring the agony that each punch shot up his arm.

“FUCK!” Tommy howled with every punch. “I TRUSTED YOU!”

He eventually collapsed, stilling his hands as tears ran down his cheeks. WHY DID HE CARE? THEY BETRAYED HIM. HE WAS CRYING OVER TRAITORS, LIARS, BACKSTABBERS. HE SHOULDN’T CRY OVER THEM.

Tommy clutched his injured hand to his chest, unsure of why the betrayal was hitting him so hard now. It’d been WEEKS since Tubbo exiled him, but here were his emotions, as raw and fierce as they had been that first night.

“I fucking trusted you,” he sobbed, falling onto his knees and leaning over until his face was nearly in the grass, his injured arm pinned between his legs and his chest. “I trusted you.”

Nothing answered him. Not even the usual noises of the forest nor the shouts of those who had seen the destruction of George’s castle responded to him.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you,” Tommy sang brokenly, anger filling him as his eyes narrowed. He swallowed his tears back as he shakily got to his feet. “‘Cause I’ll forget but I’ll NEVER forgive you. Don’t ya know, don’t ya know? True friends stab you in the FRONT.”

Tommy stumbled away, back towards where his cave was. The forest still remained silent. Tommy just wanted some NOISE.

_**BETRAYAL?** _

Tommy glanced around, finding no other person around who could make that noise. The voice was saying other words now. Tommy wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

_**WHO?** _

“Who... who what?” Tommy asked, his throat raw and his voice hoarse from screaming earlier.

_**WHO BETRAYED YOU?** _

“They all did,” Tommy growled, coming upon his cave and sliding into it awkwardly because of his probably broken hand. “All of them. I trusted them.”

_**HELP YOU. THAT’S WHY YOU CALL.** _

“I want to make them pay,” Tommy responded bitterly, not concerned about how he was talking to a fucking VOICE in his head. “Make them HURT. Like I did. Don’t think I want to kill them though. Death’s too nice for them.”

_**WE MAKE THEM PAY,**_ the voice soothed, and it felt like someone wrapped a blanket around him. _**WE MAKE THEM PAY.**_

Tommy nodded, feeling exhausted all of the sudden. Without even taking off his chestplate or the sheath that contained his sword, he collapsed onto his bed. The voice was still talking, but seemingly not really talking to him. Maybe it was talking to itself?

_**HELP YOU WITH REVENGE,**_ the voice chattered to itself. _**NO KILLING. NOT AS FUN, BUT WILL STILL HELP. HUNGRY. FEED AFTER YOU REST. THAT’S OKAY. AM PATIENT.**_

Tommy drifted off to the voice rambling in his mind, feeling oddly comforted by the gesture of it talking. It’d responded to him. He’d had a conversation with it.

It had come to him when he just wanted noise. As if it had known that he just needed to hear something other than his own thoughts.

This is why he only had loyalty to it, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two songs Tommy sang in this chapter are: 
> 
> Hell to Your Doorstep by Frank Wildhorn and Jack Murphy  
> True Friends by Bring Me the Horizon


	4. Chapter 4

_**UP.** _

Tommy startled awake, squinting his eyes shut further. “What?” He mumbled, a little annoyed.

_**DANGER.** _

THAT woke Tommy up more, and his eyes snapped open, rolling off the bed and landing on his injured arm. He stifled a yelp of pain, immediately sitting up and clutching his arm to his chest. His hand was swollen and purple, and throbbed something fierce. He definitely broke a bone or two in there.

His chestplate was digging into his chest, but he couldn’t undo the clasps with one hand. Tommy mumbled soft curses under his breath as he fumbled with the clasp.

“Tommy? Are you in here?”

Tommy’s head snapped up, searching his small cave for the source of the voice. It wasn’t the one in his head, he knew. This one sounded like Phil.

He scrambled up, remembering the cloak he was still wearing. Tommy pulled it off, thankful that he was wearing the chestplate underneath it instead of on top.

“Tommy? Please. If you’re in there, I just want to talk,” Phil called worriedly.

If he came inside, Phil would be able to see all the runes that he’d carved into the walls and the floor. Tommy had no idea how much Phil knew about the ritual he’d done, but he wasn’t willing to take the chance.

Tommy had to go to him. Phil could NOT come inside.

Tommy tried to pull on his gloves, but his hand was too swollen to fit in his other one. He ended up just forgoing the damn glove, resolving to just tuck his hand in the pocket of his hoodie to hide the black plating on the back of it.

Before Phil could call out again, Tommy emerged from his little nook, making himself visible from the entrance of the cave.

Phil was standing there, but he wasn’t the only one. Techno. Techno stood there too.

Techno who’d been right. About everything. EVERYTHING. Except the fact that Tommy REFUSED to die like Theseus did. He wasn’t going to die. He refused.

“Well,” Tommy said hoarsely, running his good hand through his hair. It was a shade lighter than it had been before his rampage last night. He hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. “Did you come here to gloat?”

“You sound like shit,” Techno said bluntly, almost exact repeat of what Skeppy had said yesterday. “You look like it too.”

Tommy let out a bitter, dry laugh, not finding it in himself to draw his sword or axe. He’d get his ass kicked, broken hand or not. Why the fuck had he punched with his right hand? He was an idiot.

“How’d you find me?” Tommy rasped.

“Emergency tracker on your communicator,” Techno responded before Phil could answer. “You knew it was there. You really think we wouldn’t use it?”

“I’m worried about you,” Phil admitted, taking a step forward. Tommy took a step back, narrowing his eyes. “Tubbo- he said... he won’t tell me what happened, but he and Niki were frantic trying to reach you. I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” Tommy responded bluntly. “Can you leave now?”

“What’s with the bandana?” Techno cut in. “And the gloves? Also, your hand is clearly broken based off the way you’re holding it, so clearly you’re not fine.”

Phil glanced towards Techno for a moment, before his gaze went back to Tommy. “Tommy,” he said gently. “Can we please come inside? If you aren’t comfortable with Techno there, he can wait outside. But please, don’t push me away. Let me help you.”

Anger flooded through Tommy, and he took a step away. “I don’t need help,” he snapped, venom dripping from his tone. “It’s been WEEKS since they fucking dropped me like a sack of shit. And you decide that now, since Tubbo and Niki are worried, now you’re concerned?”

“Your nephew needed me,” Phil looked hurt. “He just lost his dad. I was trying to help him.”

“It’s been almost three months since Wilbur died!” Tommy spat. “Fundy may have been born only a few years ago, but he has the fucking mental capacity and the body of an adult because of his mom’s bullshit. You didn’t stop to even think that maybe I NEEDED YOU?!”

Phil flinched, and Techno just stared at him passively, as he always did.

“I just wanted my dad,” Tommy said, hysterical laughter evident in his tone, but nothing came out yet. “I’d just been through hell, over and over again. But you chose Techno over me when I needed you, even before I was fucking exiled like fucking Theseus AGAIN. And now, you come find me only because someone else was worried, so that gave you a reason to be worried. I don’t need you anymore, Phil. Just leave.”

Tommy stopped after that, knowing that if he continued any further he’d never stop going. Or he’d accidentally reveal what he’d done. Neither of those options were particularly good, so, he stopped himself.

“Tommy...” Phil trailed off, staring at him with an emotion that Tommy couldn’t place.

The words were building up, and they were spilling out before Tommy could stophimself. “You wanna know what happened yesterday? You truly do? Dream fucking smashed my disks, that’s what happened. And they were all surprised that I don’t CARE. Loyalties to non-permanent things are a weakness. Loyalty to ANYTHING except yourself is a weakness. They did me a fucking FAVOR. And Tubbo tries to say I need help? I’m better than I’ve ever fucking been. Everything’s gonna change, Phil. I’m gonna-” Tommy started laughing, interrupting himself as he couldn’t suppress it anymore. It took him several moments to recollect himself before continuing. “I’m gonna change it ALL. I’m gonna fix things, Phil. I may be Theseus, BUT I REFUSE TO DIE LIKE HIM!”

Tommy silenced himself before he could say anything else, anger filling him from head to toe. He had a right to be angry. HE HAD A RIGHT TO BE ANGRY.

Techno looked stunned, an expression Tommy had never seen on him before. Phil looked horrified.

Good.

“Tommy- Tommy, you need help,” Phil whispered, blinking away tears. “Let us help you, please. We can help you.”

“I don’t need help,” Tommy said murderously, narrowing his eyes and hefting his axe, stepping back a bit. “I don’t need you. I did, once. But I don’t need you anymore.”

None of you noticed. None of you noticed. NONE OF YOU FUCKING NOTICED.

_**What will you do about it?** _

Tommy, at the time, didn’t recognize that as the voice. Without the loudness of it, without the improper grammar, it seemed like just another one of his thoughts. He would realize later.

“Leave,” Tommy spat. “Leave and don’t fucking come back. I don’t need your help. I don’t need ANY help. I’m going to change things, Phil. I’m going to change EVERYTHING.”

Silence fell over the forest, with Phil and Techno both staring at him and him vibrating with anger. Even with his new powers, he wasn’t sure if he could beat Techno in a fight, especially when he’d broken his dominant hand.

“Tommy-” Techno started.

_**“I SAID GO!”**_ Tommy roared, vaguely aware that his voice did not sound as it usually did. It was distorted, and it echoed, as if someone else was saying it with him.

Phil flinched back, and Techno’s hand found his sword, taking a step back.

Tommy growled softly, hand clenched tightly on his axe, his eyes locked on the both of them.

They were at a standstill. He knew that they knew he wasn’t going to back down. He knew that they knew that even if he was injured, he wouldn’t hesitate to fight back if they didn’t leave. That he’d probably only hurt himself further if he did.

“Phil,” Techno hissed sharply, not taking his eyes off of Tommy. “My belt, third bag on my left.”

Tommy couldn’t sort through his thoughts properly. That had been happening a lot lately. He knew he should be worried, but his brain felt like it was a few seconds behind.

So he didn’t move as Phil reached into the pouch Techno had indicated, fishing out a potion with a bright red liquid inside the glass bottle.

A health potion. Normally, he wouldn’t find this odd.

_**DANGER!**_ The voice shrieked, loud enough to make Tommy wince. _**DANGER! DANGER!**_

“What?” Tommy asked it aloud, momentarily forgetting that he was with other people, considering he’d been alone so long.

He was thrust back into reality forcefully, as Techno snatched the bottle from Phil and threw it at Tommy.

_**DANGER!** _The voice shrieked again, and Tommy dropped his axe, ducking his head and raising his arm to protect himself.

The bottle shattered at his feet, the potion getting all over his legs and shoes, the fumes rising up. It smelled sickeningly sweet.

As soon as Tommy breathed in the fumes, agony flared along his legs where the potion hit him, burning his lungs and throat and nose. He choked, hand clutching at his neck, coughing.

Every breath he took BURNED, and a guttural scream tore its way out of his throat, and he stumbled away. Tommy kept coughing, a coppery taste on his tongue as something warm dripped from his lips. He collapsed, shards of glass digging into his legs as his entire body screamed in pain.

His mind felt fuzzy, and the voice seemed to be also screaming in pain. Tommy coughed again, spitting out a rusty liquid that he was fairly familiar with. Blood.

Weren’t health potions supposed to... y’know... HEAL? What’s happening? Why does it hurt so bad?

Tommy heard someone talking, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying or who it was. His ears were ringing.

_**HURT. HURT,**_ the voice said weakly. _**HUNGRY. HURT.**_

This health potion was acting like a damage potion. Damage potions can’t kill you, Tommy knew from experience, but they hurt like a bitch.

Arms scooped him up, and Tommy was in too much pain and he was too weak to fight them, but he still struggled a bit. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, and his vision was too blurry to make out what was happening around him.

It hurt so bad. It hurt to breathe, hurt to move. It just hurt.

_**SORRY SORRY,**_ the voice told him softly. _**SORRY SORRY. POTION HURTS BOTH. IT HURTS. CAN’T HELP.**_

“‘s okay,” Tommy mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as he felt someone haul him out of his cave.

It hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not reveal anything about today’s streams except this: I’m a fucking prophet my dudes.


	5. Chapter 5

Tommy’s whole body was sore as his eyes fluttered open.

The voice kept.. like.. buzzing, in the back of his head, nervously, as Tommy took in his surroundings. He was in a bed, and he was distinctly aware of his hand being splinted, while something was tied around his upper arms in order to bind him to the bed.

He was in a room he didn’t recognize, but considering he couldn’t see shit, that wasn’t too surprising. His vision was still blurry, and his ears still rang, and breathing HURT. It felt like someone was dragging knives through his lungs and throat with every breath.

Tommy blinked dazedly, his arms jerked against his bindings with a grunt that hurt his throat. The ringing in his ears was slowly fading away, which was nice.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Tommy couldn’t place who that was. He couldn’t see them very clearly. He needed a health potion to reverse the damages of the harming-

Wait... he hadn’t been hit by a harming potion. He’d been hit by a health one.

Why- why was it acting like a harming potion?

Rough, calloused fingers brushed his hair out of his eyes, and Tommy squinted, trying to spot who was there in the vague blobs of color that were around him.

“So, as you probably know,” the person drawled. Oh. Oh. That was Techno. Tommy strained against his restraints, finding bindings around his ankles and across his chest as well. All he could do was whip his head around as he tried to free himself. Techno kept talking as if Tommy wasn’t freaking out. “That was a health potion I threw at you, and it was not supposed to hurt you. But it did. Your voice is probably shot to shit right now, so I won’t ask what you did to yourself. We’ll want to know later, especially Dad. You know how he is.”

Tommy snarled, bursting out into coughs afterward. He kept squinting and blinking rapidly, trying to refocus his eyes. The fumes must’ve gotten into his eyes quite a bit, and that’s why his vision was shit.

The voice buzzed at him, a little louder than it usually was. A warm feeling settled in his chest, like someone had laid a blanket on him. Tommy stilled, no longer straining against his bindings.

_**CAN SEE,**_ the voice said softly. _**DANGER YES. BUT PINK ONE HELP.**_

Tommy couldn’t respond, his voice was indeed gone and even if it wasn’t, Tommy didn’t think he could talk without being in more pain than he already was.

“I have a theory,” Techno rumbled, and Tommy saw him move. Something dark, dark red was next to Techno’s blurry shape. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.”

Tommy heard something shatter, then frantic footsteps retreating as the vague pink and red figure that he’d been associating with Techno vanished.

An awful smell filled his nose, and Tommy cringed away from it. But the pain was fading.

The burning in his lungs and throat faded, and breathing no longer became as difficult. His vision slowly cleared, and the soreness of his body went away. His broken hand no longer throbbed as badly, and he actually felt the bones in his hand shift and snap into place.

Now that the pain was gone, Tommy could really only focus on how hungry he was. Damn, he was starving.

Tommy took a shaky breath, relieved to find he wasn’t in pain anymore, before his eyes snapped around, trying to figure out where he was.

He was in an unfamiliar room, with a fireplace in one corner and an ender chest in another. Doors were in front of him, and a ladder that went a level up and a level down just before the doors, at the end of the bed he was in.

Techno had retreated across the room towards the fireplace, his red cloak pulled over his mouth and nose and some weird goggle things covering his eyes.

_**BETTER BETTER,**_ the voice chirped, sounding a lot better than it had earlier. _**PINK ONE HELPED. DOESN’T HURT NOW.**_

“Ah, so it worked,” Techno grunted, reaching up and taking the goggles off of his eyes. “I’m going to stay over here for a minute, until the last of the fumes dissipate. Meanwhile, you can tell me what the fuck you did to yourself.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes, and let out a soft growl. His throat still hurt slightly, so his voice was probably still gone.

“Health potions only hurt undead mobs and hybrids of undead mobs,” Techno continued as if Tommy hadn’t just fucking made an animal noise at him. “Last I checked, you’re neither, considering I know for a fact you used a health potion after the pit.”

Tommy jerked against his restraints, grunting. He wanted to tell Techno to fuck off, but whenever he tried to say them they died in his throat.

“I have all day, you know,” Techno drawled. “Phil will be back soon, and we both know that you aren’t going to get away without telling HIM what you did.”

Tommy growled again, straining as he tried to snap his bindings. He was HUNGRY DAMMIT. And not for food. Tommy hadn’t eaten since the ritual happened, he was pretty sure he was feeding off of the things he withered like the voice did.

Wait, beds were wood. He could wither wood.

Tommy stopped fighting his restraints and instead flicking his hands around, trying to grip the sides of the bed. He found it, but the bed wasn’t wood. IT WAS METAL. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. WHO MAKES A METAL BED TECHNOBLADE YOU BASTARD.

Fuck. Tommy was hungry. And he couldn’t even EXPLAIN.

The voice was silent, but he knew it was hungry too. It just didn’t say anything, probably because it knew that he couldn’t do anything to feed them right now.

Tommy locked eyes with Techno. He couldn’t even feel angry at him, he was just that fucking hungry. He managed to make a few choked sounds, but nothing that sounded like actual words, and he slammed his head against the pillow in frustration.

The doors by his bed opened, and Phil stepped inside, immediately wrinkling his nose at the stench of the potion that Techno had thrown at Tommy.

Phil had snow dusting his coat and his hat, and he looked exhausted.

Phil saw Tommy staring at him and the older man sighed, shedding his coat.

“Tommy,” Phil said softly, coming over to his bed and reaching to put a hand on Tommy’s head. Tommy flinched away, but couldn’t stop Phil as he was still tied down. The moment Phil’s hand touched him, his mind laser focused onto it.

He was so, so hungry.

No, the wither effect kills things. That’ll kill Phil. Tommy may want revenge but he isn’t a murderer. Tommy does NOT kill people.

But he was hungry.

No. No. No. nonononononononoNONONONONONO-

Tommy’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to not focus on how hungry he was. STOP FUCKING THINKING ABOUT IT.

Phil’s hand abruptly pulled away, and Tommy opened his eyes again. Phil was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Tommy, I want you to be honest with me,” Phil said sternly. “What did you do to yourself?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to speak. No words came out, just choked noises, and he looked at Phil pointedly, as if to say “what do you want me to say? Damn voice doesn’t work”.

Fuck. He was so fucking hungry. When was the last time he’d withered something? He didn’t know. He didn’t even know how long he’d been out.

“We saw where you’ve been staying,” Phil continued. “That was the old language you carved into the walls and the floor. Why would you do that? Where did you even learn to read it, much less write it?”

Tommy grunted, glaring at him.

“Dream and Fundy are working on a translation,” Phil kept going, and Tommy’s eyes widened.

No no no. Translating the runes would reveal the ritual. NO.

Tommy yanked against his restraints, growling softly. NO. He slammed his head into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he thrashed to get free. LET ME GO.

“Tommy calm down,” Tommy felt fingers brush against his head again, trying to still him.

NO.

“D-N’T!” Tommy shrieked, his eyes snapping open as he jerked violently away from Phil’s hand. The syllables were hard to hear, but they were clear enough to be understood to him at least. They tore themselves out of his mouth painfully, and his throat grew even more sore with his efforts to speak.

To Phil and Techno seemed to understand what he was saying, as Phil immediately removed his hand and Techno came by the foot of the bed.

“H’ngry,” Tommy mumbled. “D’n’t wanna hurt ‘ou.”

Techno and Phil both stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to say more, but Tommy snapped his mouth shut.

Techno sighed, stepping away for a few moments before coming back with a potato. Of course. Techno only had fucking potatoes- wait, that would work.

Techno moved to tear it in half to feed it to Tommy, but Tommy shook his head, turning one of his hands palm up and gestured for him to give it to him.

“You’re literally tied down, you can’t feed yourself,” Techno deadpanned. But Tommy just gestured for him to give the potato to him instead, this time with a glare.

Techno rolled his eyes, muttering to himself, and put half of the potato into Tommy’s outstretched hand.

Tommy instantly relaxed as the potato turned black, shriveled, and then crumbled into nothing in his palm.

Both Techno and Phil gawked at him, glancing between him and his hand. Tommy grunted, and gestured for Techno to give him the other half.

Seeming unsure, Techno placed the other half in Tommy’s hand as well, which befell the same fate. Tommy sighed in relief. He wasn’t fucking hungry anymore THANK GOD.

_**PINK ONE HELPS,**_ the voice chattered. _**PINK ONE HELPS. LIKE THIS ONE.**_

“What the fuck,” Phil was the one who spoke first. “What did you do?”

“To m’self or to the p’tato?” Tommy mumbled. “Was h’ngry. Not anym’re.”

“Explain,” Phil snapped, sounding stern. “Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an assignment due tonight and I still fucking posted this my dumb ass-  
> Anyways the SAT fucking sucks guys I swear I was there for half of the whole fucking day-  
> I’ll get to comments later okay I just wanted to post this


	6. Chapter 6

“Why?” Tommy grunted hoarsely. “You’ll f’nd out ev’ntually, if you’re translating the ‘unes.”

“Tommy, what did you do?” Techno demanded. “First the health potion harming you, and now you just fucking disintegrated a potato with your HAND-”

Tommy laughed bitterly cutting Techno off. That laugh that eventually turned into a coughing fit. It took several seconds for the coughing to subside. “You’re smart,” he rasped. “Fig’re it out.”

_**PINK ONE DANGER,**_ the voice mused. _**BUT HELP TOO. DANGER. BUT HELP. BUT DANGER. GREEN ONE UNSURE. GREEN ONE DANGER? GREEN ONE HELP?**_

Tommy groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against the voice’s rambling. It wasn’t sure, he knew that much. It was asking him, but he couldn’t RESPOND, not without Phil and Techno thinking he was crazy.

Well, he was crazy. He’d gone mental, out on his own with no one to talk to. So maybe it didn’t matter whether they thought he was or not.

“Tommy you need to answer the goddamn question,” Phil snapped. “What did you do to yourself?!”

“I d’n’t NEED to do anythin’,” Tommy opened his eyes to glare at him. “What’re ‘ou gonna do if I d’n’t say anythin’? Nothin’ I’m not already goin’ to get, if ‘ou turn me in.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you Tommy, you’re not exiled anymore, we just need to know what you’ve done so we can help you,” Phil pleaded with him.

“I DON’T NEED HELP!” Tommy snapped, bursting into another coughing fit right afterwards, curling in on himself.

_**Oh...**_ the voice sounded soft, quiet, as Tommy’s body shook from his coughs.

His lungs burned still, his throat was still sore. Wasn’t the potion supposed to heal him? It had healed his broken hand, but not his lungs? What was happening?

_**I WILL FIX IT!**_ The voice sounded... worried. _**I WILL FIX IT. SORRY. SORRY. WENT TOO LONG WITHOUT FEEDING. SORRY.**_

“What?” Tommy mumbled, swallowing down the last few coughs still in him.

Something cold was spreading in his chest, like he’d just drank a lot of ice water.

The frigid feeling soothed the burning in his lungs, and it made it easier to breathe, lessening his need to cough. His throat was cold too, and it was growing less sore now.

_**TOO LONG WITHOUT FEEDING,**_ the voice explained hurriedly. _**YOU... I will fix it. Do not worry, I will fix it.**_

“What does that mean?” Tommy asked it, receiving no response except the same nervous buzzing noise the voice had been making earlier.

“Who are you talking to?” Phil drew Tommy’s attention away from the voice. He sounded worried.

“Why do you care?” Tommy grunted.

“I’m- We’re worried about you, Tommy,” Phil said softly. “All of us. Tubbo, Niki, Techno, even DREAM is concerned about you Tommy. You need help, we’re going to help you.”

“I don’t need help,” Tommy growled, jerking against his bindings in frustration. “You don’t care. You weren’t fucking THERE when I needed you. You’re only concerned because the others gave you a reason to be.”

“Tommy-” Techno started.

“Don’t even get me started on YOU, dickhead,” Tommy snapped, interrupting him. “You proud of yourself? For predicting everything? I am Theseus. Is that what you wanted? You were right, dammit. About everything. Fuck, you were right! Is that what you want to hear? Governments are corrupt, power corrupts. That’s why I’m going to blow that fucking place to smithereens for even THINKING they could get away with tossing me out like trash-”

Tommy’s mouth snapped shut immediately, eyes widening as he realized he’d basically just announced his plans to the two people who had him at their mercy. He was fucking strapped to a BED and he’d just revealed his goal.

_**Not good,**_ the voice hummed, immediately shifting to the defensive. The coldness in Tommy’s chest faded, and while his lungs still burned slightly, they were much better than before.

What could he do? He couldn’t wither anything because of his hands being tied. He wasn’t sure he had the heart to use it on Phil or Techno anyway. Or anyone, for that matter. Tommy was not a murderer.

Could he explode the bed? Oh, that would hurt a lot. It might get him free though. Emphasis on MIGHT.

_**Sit and wait,**_ the voice instructed. _**If it gets bad, I will get us out.**_

Tommy was having trouble recognizing that as the voice. With proper grammar, and it wasn’t shouting... if he hadn’t been paying attention to it he probably wouldn’t have realized. It sounded so similar to his own thoughts. It sounded like HIM.

Phil looked absolutely horrified, and surprisingly, Technoblade, emotionless Technoblade, did too.

Giggles started bubbling in Tommy’s chest. He’d fucked himself over. Great. Everything he’d done was going down the drain all because he couldn’t keep his FUCKING MOUTH SHUT.

Tommy couldn’t stop himself from laughing, quietly and brokenly as he closed his eyes. After everything, he was his own undoing.

_**Calm,**_ the voice whispered. _**They cannot hurt you with me around. They cannot stop you unless you want me to let them. Do not give up yet, little one. You called me, you didn’t abuse my power. In that, you have my thanks, and my support. No one will touch you without me allowing it first.**_

Tommy immediately stilled as he processed this. That was the most that the voice had spoken coherently before, and it seemed to... care for him? In some way? He cared for it, sure, because it was the one thing that couldn’t leave him. No matter what it’d always be there. He’d never expected that care to be reciprocated.

Tommy peeled his eyes open and looked tiredly at both Phil and Techno. He couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore.

He heard something buzz, and Techno and Phil both looked away from him, pulling out their communicators. A few taps later, a soft pinging sound could be heard from Phil’s communicator.

“Alright,” Fundy’s voice came from the communicator, as loud and clear as if he was standing right next to Tommy. Techno and Phil joined a call. Great.

Tommy let his head thump back onto the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

“So, it took us a minute to find something that allowed us to translate old language,” Fundy continued. “But we finally did, and we have... a vague idea... of what the runes say. He did them perfectly, so it’s not that hard, it’s just... a lot of runes.”

Tommy let himself grin. He had spent SO LONG on those damn runes. He was rather proud of himself for them.

“Get on with it,” Techno snapped.

“They describe... some kind of ritual?” Fundy offered.

“More like a summoning,” Dream’s voice interjected. Ah. So he was there too. “About the bringer of destruction and chaos.”

_**Chaos is a bit much,**_ the voice mused. _**Can someone like blowing stuff up without being called a bringer of chaos?**_ _ **Destruction though... fair.**_

Tommy startled himself by laughing, interrupting their conversation.

“He’s awake?” Dream asked as soon as Tommy quieted down again. “Can’t you just get him to tell you what he did?”

“He isn’t listening,” Phil said, sounding exasperated, which just made anger start to boil in Tommy’s chest. “He’s been rambling and talking to himself and... he disintegrated a potato. With his hand.”

Techno was silent, his face screwed up in concentration.

Before his eyes snapped open wide and he nearly dropped his communicator, staring at Tommy with a horrified expression.

“You didn’t,” Techno said softly, as if trying to convince himself.

“What’d I do?” Tommy said, faking obliviousness as he tilted his head at Techno and smirked.

“He disintegrated a potato?” Fundy asked skeptically.

“Oh fuck,” there was something in Dream’s tone that he couldn’t place. “Tommy, what the FUCK. You didn’t.”

“What’d I do?” Tommy repeated, grinning.

“Tommy shut up for one second PLEASE,” Techno snapped. “Please, please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

“Techno?” Phil asked him worriedly.

Tommy, for once in his life, did as he was told and stayed silent for a few moments, staring at Techno with a manic grin on his face.

“I did what I had to,” Tommy said cheerfully, breaking out into laughter again. There was something very refreshing about hearing madness in his own voice, being able to recognize it, but not CARING that it was there.

“Techno, what do you know?” Phil asked, sounding concerned and obviously trying to ignore Tommy. It sparked anger in his chest, how the moment Techno seemed worried, Phil immediately switched his focus and ignored Tommy.

“The runes are talking about summoning something, right?” Techno asked. “Or is it someONE?”

“...Someone,” Fundy clarified after a few seconds. “Why?”

Techno immediately stood up, staring at Tommy with outrage and... fear in his eyes.

“Tommy, you fucking idiot!” Techno snapped. “Where’s the book? Where’d you put it? How the fuck did you FIND A BOOK that would tell you how to do this in the first place?!”

Tommy grinned at him, staying silent.

“Tommy this isn’t a fucking joke, you need to tell me where that book is,” Techno demanded. “You don’t- do you even understand what you’ve done to yourself?”

“It’s somewhere you’ll never get it~” Tommy said with a sing-song tone, laughing.

_**The pink one seems to know,**_ the voice mused. _**We will have to see where he goes with this. He might be... a danger, to us.**_

“Techno, what’s going on?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, what are you going on about man?” Fundy agreed.

Tommy grinned. “Yeah Techno, what’s going on?”

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Tommy!” Techno snapped, throwing his hands up into the air in frustration.

The sudden action sent a chill down Tommy’s spine, and his mind half-detached from his body.

He kept getting glimpses of stone walls, blood, and Wilbur laughing. Pain in his ribs and on his face and everything hurt and he was so ANGRY and he felt hurt but just not in a physical way. Betrayal and anger and concern and anger just bled out of him and it was too much it was too much-

_**Shh...**_ the voice whispered, and Tommy was abruptly pulled away from those memories into somewhere dark. Somewhere warm. The place was comforting in a way. _**I will handle this, little one. Rest for now. I promise not to hurt them.**_

Tommy couldn’t feel the bed beneath him, or the bindings restraining him. He nodded, and felt someone run their hands through his hair.

_**Sleep little one,**_ the voice purred. _**I will handle this.**_

Tommy did as he was told.

He slept.

———

Its eyes popped open, and it snapped the bindings around its arms, ankles, and chest with ease. It ducked away from the pink one and the green one, launching out of the bed and crossing the room before the humans could turn around.

_**“So,”**_ it said casually, in a voice that was distinctly not the little one’s it’d grown so fond of hearing. It leaned against the wall opposite of the humans, tilting his head at them with a predatory smile. _ **“I have been asked not to kill you. However, if I find you threatening, I won’t hesitate to at least harm you if that what it takes to get away.”**_

It had assumed its usual form, an adaptation of the little one’s human form, with ink-black skin and white hair. The only difference between it and the little one’s appearance when using its power was that it had glowing all-white eyes, while only the little one’s pupils turned white.

The pink one had drawn a netherite sword, standing protectively before the green one. It didn’t know why the little one was so fond of these mortals, especially after they had betrayed him, but it didn’t question the little one.

_**“So my question for you mortals is simple,”**_ it continued, casually tapping its claws against the wall as he met the fear filled eyes of the humans. _ **“What are your plans regarding the little one?”**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hyperfixating on this one fic and it shows


	7. Chapter 7

The pink one- Techno. Techno was what the little one called him. The green one was referred to as Phil.

Even though it knew the little one’s real name, “little one” was a more fitting name in its mind. The little one was just so young and already so broken, so destroyed. It knew destruction, and it knew a human so young did not deserve to be so damaged already.

Techno took a step forward, brandishing his netherite sword as if it could truly harm it. “Where is Tommy?” He growled, in a low tone that sounded awfully familiar to it. Hmm...

_**“Sleeping,”**_ it replied smoothly. _**“The little one has not been sleeping lately. I’ve been forced to make him sleep myself, other than when you’re attack damaged us both. His unconsciousness was not my doing, there. But every other time he’s slept as of late was because of me.”**_

“Phil send me your coordinates RIGHT FUCKING NOW,” another familiar voice demanded from the communicator in the green one’s- Phil’s, hand.

_**“Let’s not make this difficult,”**_ it interjected before Phil could respond. _**“I am not going to kill them. The little one specified no killing. While that’s not as fun, I won’t go against his wishes.”**_

“The little one...” Phil said softly. “You mean Tommy?”

It grunted, nodding.

“Get the fuck out of him,” Techno demanded. “Get out of him. He’s a child. He doesn’t need something like you in him.”

It tilted his head. _**“He would be dead right now if not for me. If I hadn’t accepted his call. But you know that, don’t you? Who did you summon?”**_

Techno jerked back violently, as if he’d been burned.

Phil’s gaze hardened. “That is none of your concern,” the blonde man snapped.

_**“None of you have answered my original question,”**_ it shrugged, leaning against the wall. _**“What are your plans with the little one?”**_

“He needs help, he needs his FAMILY,” Phil seemed upset. A soft beep came from the communicator in his hand. It wasn’t sure what that meant exactly.

_**“He does need help, I agree,”**_ it admitted. _**“But as for his family... I haven’t been told everything, but I can garner things from his episodes, from his thoughts. Does family beat their young in pits? Do they keep kicking them even as their ribs snap and the young scream? Is family supposed to turn away from the young, the broken, in favor of the unbroken? I haven’t been in the mortal realm properly for several centuries, but something tells me that the definition of family does not include such things.”**_

Both of the humans- (was Techno human? It wasn’t sure quite yet) had fallen silent.

It turned to Techno. _ **“You beat him down without mercy, without restraint. He was one of your family’s young. You almost killed him and showed no compassion to him or regret of your actions.”** _Its gaze swiveled to Phil next. _ **“He needed you. The little one just wanted you, his guardian. He wanted help, after he’d been through hell. But you turned away from him, instead choosing the son that you favored over the son that needed you.”**_

They both still remained silent, and it continued.

_**“I do not blame the little one for seeking revenge when he’s been wronged on so many occasions, by so many people, all of whom he valued above himself. I do not blame him for giving into the darkness within himself that led us all to the situation we are in now. None of you mortals are willing to accept that ALL OF YOU contributed to his self-destruction. And now that I am picking up these pieces of him, now that I am the one healing him when you wouldn’t, now that you have broken him and I am trying to save him, you wish to cast me away.”** _

With that, silence fell over the room, save for the crackling of fire in the corner and the wind howling outside. The tension in the room was thick, even it could tell.

“Tommy?” A boy, a familiar boy, called from the communicator. The boy sounded so broken, similar to that of the little one.

The little one stirred at the sound of the boy’s voice, waking from his short slumber. _Tubbo?_ The little one asked sleepily.

_**“Go back to sleep little one,”**_ it turned its head slightly, breaking eye contact with the humans, even though the little one wasn’t visible. _**“I’m taking care of this.”**_

_M’kay..._ the little one mumbled, and faded back into sleep.

It turned its gaze back towards the humans. _**“You woke him up,”**_ it said, something accusatory in its tone. _**“He is sleeping for a reason.”**_

“I don’t understand,” the boy’s voice sounded again. “What’s happening? Tommy, is that you? What’s wrong with your voice? Who are we talking about?”

“Would you like to explain yourself to them?” Techno asked it bitterly. “They don’t know anything about this.”

“Please do explain,” came another voice from the communicator, different from the first two. “I would really like to know what the FUCK is going on man.”

It shifted, tapping its claws against the wall with a sigh. _**“The little one- the one you know as Tommy, sought after me for help. He wanted revenge on those who wronged him. I agreed, and we have partially merged. Vengeance is a common request of me, and I thought this would be no different. Until I figured out the extent of how the little one was betrayed.”**_

“I don’t understand,” came the boy’s voice, sounding so hurt and broken and was practically an echo of the little one’s own voice. How many of the young had these mortals hurt? Weren’t humans supposed to care for the young?

“Tommy went insane, summoned a demon, and the demon’s pissed at us,” the first voice from the communicator, the one that sounded familiar, summarized.

Hmm... that one sounded... very familiar.

“...What the fuck, man,” came the second voice.

_**“I agree in the fact that the little one requires help,”**_ it hummed, ignoring the humans. _**“For being so young, he is quite unstable. However, I believe it’d be detrimental to him for those of the likes of you to try to offer him assistance.”**_

“That’s my son!” Phil spat, trying to shove past Techno, who held him back. “I’ll be dammed before I stop trying to help him just because you say so! I-”

_**“YOU ALREADY HAVE!”** _It snarled. _**“You stopped helping him the minute you chose someone else over him when all he wanted was you! You have no place to stand here and try and shove that shit in my- his- our- FUCK!”**_

The little one was awake again, this time more fully, and he was trying to regain control. He was panicking, clearly not understanding what was going on and just reaching for anything that he could see. This ended up with the little one’s words bleeding into what it was trying to say.

_Let me out,_ the little one gasped. _Where am I? Let me out, please._

It had to get them away, far enough away so that the little one couldn’t be hurt if he managed to wrestle control away.

_**“It’s okay, little one, just a min-”**_ it was abruptly cut off by the swing of a netherite sword, and it threw itself to the side in order to avoid the blow.

“I will not let you poison him,” Techno hissed, stepping forward to block the door. “Not like you’ve poisoned others. I don’t care what it takes.”

“Techno, I don’t...” Phil glanced between it and Techno. “I...”

It narrowed its eyes, trying to find a way out of the house it was currently in. The windows were mostly wood, and it had no idea which way they opened. The door was behind Techno, as was the ladder that possible contained other escape routes.

_Voice? What’s happening? Where am I?_ The little one asked. _Wait... I can see... is Techno attacking you?_

_**“Just a minute, little one,”** _it grunted, backing up a few steps and weighing its options. _ **“I would suggest you move, Technoblade. I have been asked not to kill you, but I’m not against harming you if that’s what it takes.”**_

“I won’t let you poison him,” Techno repeated with the same amount of venom in his voice as before.

_**“You humans poisoned him!”**_ It snarled. _**“You wish to cast me away because I am fixing YOUR MISTAKES!”**_

“I know what things like you do!” Techno snapped back. “I won’t let you do any of it to him!”

_**“The little one will NEVER experience those things, either from me or anything else, ever again,”**_ it retorted, angling itself so that Techno couldn’t see the small white fireball building in one of his palms. _**“But you, mortal, will never believe me. Who did you summon then, for you to know these things? You smell like one of the old ones, but you’re stale.”**_

Techno stiffened, and it took that opportunity to aim and fire at the wall behind itself.

The explosion shook the building, and it made sure nothing hit the two mortals. Loud, confused, angry voices came from the communicator as it turned and jumped out of the hole it had made in the wall.

Before it could land on the snow, it took off, flying through the air and away from the house it had been in.

They were in a snow covered biome, and it seemed to stretch on endlessly.

_It’s dark,_ the little one said softly. It was indeed, dark outside, but that’s not he was referring to.

_**“I know, just a bit longer little one,”** _it soothed, mentally reaching back into the dark space the little one was in and ruffling his hair. _ **“I know somewhere we can go. You might not like it, but we’ll be safe there. After that I’ll let you out, I promise.”**_

_I trust you,_ the little one mumbled.

It didn’t respond, just continued flying as far away from the humans as it could get.

It had sensed the person it was looking for recently, when the little one had gone to the meeting with those humans, the meeting where those music disks were shattered. (Those disks had been important to the little one. Maybe there was a way to get them back? That was a thought for a later date.)

The person it’d sensed had been a little ways off then.

It hoped Ranboo was still nearby.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun had started to rise by the time it had flown close enough to where Ranboo was in order to sense him. The sun had cleared the horizon by the time it had actually pinpointed Ranboo’s exact location.

Rain had started to fall by this point. It slowly drifted down towards the ground, listening to the quiet ramblings of the little one in the back of its mind as it glanced at the wooden house. Water soaked every inch of it, weighing down its hair and making the clothes it was wearing cling to its skin.

The little one was panicking again, speaking of how they shouldn’t be there, that it was dangerous, and how he was exiled from this “L’manburg” and they’ll find him here. It wasn’t worried, because it had done a quick swoop of the area and found no one else nearby.

It stepped forward, and rapped its knuckles on the wooden door three times.

No one came to the door for the several minutes that it waited afterwards.

It did it again, annoyance creeping through it as it continued to get drenched from the water falling from the sky.

Finally, the door opened, and Ranboo stood inside of the doorway, away from the rain.

The tall enderman-hybrid seemed frankly taken aback at the sight of it on his porch, dripping went in the rain.

“Sicca?” Ranboo asked, his face scrunching up as one ear perked up and the other flattened, signifying his confusion. “You... is that TOMMY?!”

_**“I needed a safe place to take the little one,”** _it explained, hearing the little one in question fall silent. _**“I had sensed you nearby earlier. I thought you’d be better for him than spending time in a cave somewhere.”**_

“...Come in,” Ranboo sounded tired, tail swishing as he stepped to the side. It gladly entered, thankful to be out of the rain. “Is this the first time you switched?”

It nodded. _**“He’s panicking. I need to heal him too, we went to long without feeding because we were attacked and fell unconscious.”**_

“Where did-”

_**“His lungs. I managed to reverse most of the damage earlier, but I need to finish before it gets worse.”** _

_What are you talking about?_ The little one asked. _We... we can’t trust Ranboo. He’s like the others._

_**“No, he isn’t,”**_ it told the little one. _**“Trust me on this one.”**_

“I’m certainly not going to tell a bunch of humans you’re here,” Ranboo said dryly. “Then I’d have to explain why Sicca came to me instead of running off. That’s a conversation that I’d like to avoid having, thank you.”

_**“I’m going to switch us now,”**_ it said, cutting off any thought the little one might have had over why Ranboo was calling it Sicca.

“Dry off first,” Ranboo tossed a towel at it, and it caught it. “I don’t need you getting water all over my base and make me freak out when I step in a puddle in the middle of the night.”

It did so, drying off to the best of its ability before sitting down in front of the fireplace in order to air-dry the clothes it was wearing.

_**“We’re going to switch now, alright little one?”**_ It said softly. _ **“This might feel weird, and I apologize.”**_

_Just let me out of the dark please,_ the little one pleaded.

It closed its eyes, shoving itself into the dark with the little one. It nudged the little one forward, through the gap it had made, until it was alone in the dark once more.

———

Tommy’s eyes snapped open, and he started coughing violently, doubling over as the burning in his lungs startled him with how fierce it was.

_**I’m fixing it, just a minute,**_ the voice soothed, and the cold feeling from before started spreading through Tommy’s chest.

It began to numb the burning in his lungs and in his chest, until finally, finally, Tommy was able to stop coughing and actually breathe properly.

He took several deep, shaky breaths, before he trusted himself to sit up straight again.

Ranboo was staring at him across the room, his pointy ears drooping downward slightly, but perking back up once he saw Tommy was okay. His tail also swished, pointing straight up like a cat’s would.

“I’m sure Sicca didn’t mean for all of that to happen,” Ranboo commented. “What did happen, by the way? My communicator has been going off non-stop for the past few hours, all in the group chat from Techno, Dream, and Phil telling people to look for you.”

“It’s a long story,” Tommy rasped, staring at his hands and finding the right was still ink-black, while his left was his normal skin tone. Huh.

“You’ve got time,” Ranboo shrugged. “No one knows where we are. You’re communicator isn’t with you, I see, and no one will think to come looking for ME of all people.”

“I summoned the wither,” Tommy blurted out, keeping his eyes on his hands so he didn’t have to meet Ranboo’s gaze.

“No, you summoned Sicca,” Ranboo corrected. “They’re referred to as “the wither” in all those old language books because they don’t really know the old ones’ names, just their titles.”

“Sicca... is the voice’s name?” Tommy asked, half to Ranboo and half to the voice.

_**I’m often referred to as Sicca by the other old ones, or by the hosts/former hosts of the old ones,**_ the voice sounded amused. _**You may call me Sicca if you want.**_

“Hosts and former hosts?” Tommy mumbled, meeting Ranboo’s red and green eyes. “Does that mean?”

“I’m a former host of Inanis,” Ranboo offered. “That’s why I look like this.” He gestured to himself, well, more so at his enderman traits.

“Who’s Inanis?” Tommy asked.

Ranboo snorted. “The void,” he said unhelpfully. “That’s what the books refer to them as. They’re like... the demonic/spiritual embodiment of endermen. Like how Sicca is the demonic/spiritual embodiment of withers and wither skeletons.”

“I thought you were just a hybrid.”

Ranboo snorted again. “There are no “just hybrids”, Tommy. People like Schlatt and Fundy made deals with nature spirits to gain those traits. Philza too, I imagine, with those wings of his.”

Tommy fell silent, wordlessly rolling up his sleeve on his right hand to check how much of his skin had stayed black. It stopped just before his elbow, a considerable amount higher than it had been when he’d woken up yesterday.

“That’ll keep getting bigger, by the way,” Ranboo hummed, noticing Tommy’s gaze. “Until your business with Sicca is over.”

“Over?” He asked weakly. “I... I thought you couldn’t leave...”

Ranboo seemed to notice the brokenness in Tommy’s voice, so he said nothing.

_**Staying the way we are would eventually lead to your death,** _the v- Sicca explained gently. _**I won’t leave you, per say. If you call on me I’ll always come, but I won’t be present like this all of the time. If I stay for more than a few weeks, your body would overload, and you would die. That time might become shorter the more you use my abilities.**_

“Sicca will still be with you. By you summoning them and them accepting, you’ve created a permanent bond,” Ranboo explained gently. “But being a host to one of the old ones is a temporary thing. In the end, you either die, or you unmerge. But that bond cannot be reversed, ever. I can still talk to Inanis, but it’s not as easy as it used to be.”

Tommy stayed silent. Sicca wasn’t supposed to leave, they were supposed to stay. He wasn’t sure if he could handle them leaving him too.

“So,” Ranboo changed the subject after several minutes had passed with Tommy just staring at the floor. “After you summoned Sicca, what happened?”

“Had a meeting with L’manburg, SMP, and the Badlands, where they broke my disks,” Tommy said dryly. “I ran off after, destroyed George’s castle, broke my hand. Phil and Techno found me, threw a health potion at me that fucked both me and Sicca up. I woke up in Techno’s base, was super fucking hungry so I withered a potato in front of them, got yelled at. Yelled at them back, got yelled at some more. Next thing I really know, I’m in this dark area completely alone and I see Techno attacking Sicca. Sicca got us away, and we’ve spent the past few hours looking for you, I think. I was half-asleep most of the time when we were flying.”

“Oh YOU destroyed George’s castle?” Ranboo burst out laughing. “Everyone was so furious and bewildered. I knew it had to be someone who’d summoned a wither, considering no one could find any gunpowder residue on the rubble that would’ve signified TNT. But considering the probable wither didn’t stick around, I figured it had to be Sicca.”

“I was pissed.”

“I can tell.”

Breathing was becoming much easier now, and even as the frigid feeling in his chest faded, the burning didn’t return. He was getting hungry again though. It hadn’t been eight hours since the potato, maybe only four. Huh.

“Do you have food? Or like, wood or something?” Tommy asked.

Ranboo shrugged, pulling open a chest. “Which would you rather have?”

“It feels the same either way, so I don’t really care.”

“I’d feel bad about just throwing a log at you, though.”

“Then don’t? It’s not that hard big man.”

“Do you want food then?”

“You’re overthinking this way too much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started it, had a breakdown, bon appetite.  
> I’ll respond to comments eventually.
> 
> Also, worldbuilding/background info pog. And name reveal pog.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @Rose12610  
> Tumblr: @alwaysananxiousmess
> 
> Listen, after watching today’s streams.... This popped into my head and strangled me into writing it.
> 
> Title is from Hell to Your Doorstep by Frank Wildhorn and Jack Murphy
> 
> Translation of Galactic: I summon you, destroyer, a curse upon the land. Give me your power in exchange for my body, for you to use as you please.


End file.
